


Can You Feel The Sun

by SilverhandsAss



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But also, Cyberpunk 2077 Spoilers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Lots of Sex, Lots of it, Lots of that too, Romance, Sex, Smut, and also, because it follows the ending, lots of it LOTS of it, so read at your own risk ig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverhandsAss/pseuds/SilverhandsAss
Summary: V finds herself struggling to face the memories leading up to Mikoshi, wondering about all the ways she could have done things differently in order to get that 'happy ending'. She faces her rekindled grief while across the city, in some abandoned hideout, an old acquaintance is bringing back the beloved dead—and with it, some hope.Set after the events of the game with some mentions of events throughout.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 28
Kudos: 67





	1. Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO, this will be exploring a potential follow-up of what happens after V gets back in her body. The title of the fic comes from a Missio song, it's good shit, Missio fuels me.
> 
> ANYWHO, there is definitely good shit coming, so, hope you have fun OwO

The city, it seemed, did not stop and wait for her to get her shit together. No, in fact it continued to run on its rusted gears, the machine roaring and rumbling endlessly—and her sacrifice was barely a wrench in it all. Perhaps just an annoying rattle of an old piece that could easily be replaced. At least, that's how it felt to her as she sat at the edge of the rooftop, her legs swinging over open air.

The last time she was up here, he sat in this very spot, facing the other direction, facing _her_. Val's chest rose in a stagger, threatening to tear down the wall she had been building for a _while_. They were the only things keeping her steady, but right here... right _now_...

"V?" a soft voice called from behind her and footsteps approached. Her scent reached her before her form moved into her periphery, as Misty sat beside her, facing inward. "What are you doing up here?"

"Just... getting some air," Val replied, her eyes tracing the neon lights of the city. "Don't worry, not about'ta jump. Wouldn't have you find me like that."

"That's not funny," Misty sighed, voice laced with concern.

"I wasn't joking," Valerie replied, her candor coming off a bit surprising to the both of them.

"What's on your mind?" Misty asked her, shuffling a bit closer.

Then, it happened.

Everything was blue—everything was red—everything in her vision fizzled and her mind was suddenly here—but not here. It was here, but not now.

She remembered the rooftop in its dark, greenish tinge, and the way it fell apart to her touch. She remembered the eternal darkness and the path of blue specks that streamed her final walk. She remembered that bright beam of light ahead of her that beckoned her to her final call. Finally, she remembered the defragmented formation of that little booth at Tom's diner, where two red figures sat together and spoke of better days.

* * *

"I guess I was hoping we'd see it all through, that we'd... I dunno... find a way to come back from this. Together."

"I've had my time, V," he assured her, his 'ganic hand now resting gently upon her cheek. "I've had my chances. Now you get yours, and you better use it well. Go find everyone you left behind, settle down with 'em if you want, and keep on your feet."

His hold on her was now a little firm, as though he meant for her to soak in every single word. Val couldn't keep herself together, feeling her chest begin to convulse as sobs racked through her body. She shut her eyes and felt his thumbs at her cheeks immediately.

"I don't want to go. I don't... I can't do this, Johnny," she whispered, her voice breaking into a whisper. As she spoke, he stepped forward, nudging her back until her leg hit something. He continued to push her past it, making her climb over the edge.

 _Ice_. She glanced down, finding her legs partly submerged in the well already. Her heart began to race, but she was pulled from her thoughts as she felt his warm lips press against her forehead.

"You can, V. I know you can. You go back out there, find a way to fix this if you can or live out your days to the fullest if you can't. Go home, go to your people, go play some gigs again like you used to," he encouraged, helping her sit down slowly. As she did, he sat at the edge of the well and took her hands, leaning in close. "And maybe include a _Silverhand Special_ in there some time," he winked.

She couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound breaking past her sorrow for just a moment. "I'll include some classics just for you."

"That's my girl," Johnny smiled at her, but then they both fell silent.

Her eyes met his and they both knew, they both thought about it. That growing, intense connection between them that went beyond companionship—beyond whatever the fuck happened between engram and host. That thing that they both had begun to acknowledge but had never quite discussed.

"Johnny, I..." Val struggled, her breath hitched in her throat as she stared him in the eyes. Johnny lowered himself to his knees so that they could be closer, letting Val reach a hand out to his cheek. "Don't you fucking forget about me."

"I don't think that's possible anymore," he admitted, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it before. Then, he cleared his throat. "V, I need you to promise me something." She paused with bated breath. "Promise you won't let this change you. Promise that you'll try. That you'll move forward."

"Johnny, I—"

"Promise me—that everything we're doing now will count for something."

There was nothing she could say to that. No words could ever express the anguish that Val felt in thinking about that promise, in _accepting_ his demise and living with it nonetheless.

Still, she could not escape that look in his eye. If this was their last meet and these were their last words, she would part with him knowing that he would be at peace with what she told him. So, she mustered up her courage, hoping she would be speaking the truth.

"I promise you," she muttered.

"Then that's all I need," he smiled at her, and her heart broke.

"I, uh..." she sniffled, "I don't know if you believe in a heaven or hell, but whatever's out there... I guess we'll meet again there some day."

Johnny grinned wide, "Well, since I'm only _code_ , that version of me won't be remembering any of this."

"Guess I'll just have to kick your ass all over again, ain't that right?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, princess."

At first glance, he was smiling at her. That same smile of his that he'd give her after she'd tell of a corporat in the most satisfying way, or when they'd flip each other off and she'd turn away from him, leaving him chuckling to himself. It was a pure, unfiltered smile that broke past whatever apprehension and unfamiliarity they had between them to make way for a bond that had only solidified in time.

Upon further observation, she could see past the initial expression and the vague nuances that hid behind those red pixels of code. That small pinch of his brow that was visible whenever his image stuttered, the very faint quiver of his lips, the uncharacteristic gentleness of his demeanor toward her—or _anyone_.

Val pushed herself up from the well enough to move her lips against his. Beyond all logic or comprehension, they felt soft and so _, so_ warm. They moved with longing and intense adoration, and Val felt his arms wrap around her tightly as well as they could.

That sorrow within her was reignited within seconds and she could feel herself suddenly becoming so conscious of what she was about to lose. Her tears fell loose once more, her chest began to heave, and as they pulled away, Johnny left her one more kiss upon her lips and one upon her forehead. Val began to shake her head, feeling her panic and fear kick in just as Johnny placed a hand over her shoulder.

"Johnny," V began, wanting to beg, wanting to stay, but she knew what needed to happen. Her mind had already arrived to the conclusion that her heart just couldn't quite catch up to. She mustered up all the strength within her to maintain her composure as she spoke her next few words. "I love you. Eres mi media naranja."

With one hand upon her shoulder and one holding hers firm against his chest, he smiled and his head dipped low momentarily. A broken chuckle betrayed his own pain as he finally looked at her.

"I love you—" he paused, the letter of her name stuck upon his lips, and then he said it. "Valerie." He had only ever said her name once, when she was slowly losing consciousness in his arms. Now, he said it again, on her path back to the land of the living. "Never stop fighting."

Before she could lose herself and begin begging—before that momentary strength of hers could pull her apart and make her leap out of the well, her hands slipped. Johnny pushed her down into the ice cold depths of the well, his eyes never leaving hers as he did so. The last thing she could remember as every sense of hers drifted away from her was that lingering touch upon her shoulder—that tingle that refused to fade.

* * *

"V?" Misty called again, snapping Val out of her thoughts. "Where did you go?" When Val didn't answer and did not even so much as glance toward her direction, Misty's breath escaped her. "It was today, wasn't it?" she realized, a hand moving to V's arm. "Oh, honey I'm so sorry... It's no wonder my readings about you have been off lately."

"You been reading about me?" Val asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"Ever since you stopped answering your phone," Misty admitted. "It's been... confusing, but... it makes sense now." There was a pregnant pause between them, a silence broken only by distant shouts and car horns. Then, Misty took a breath. "I could... do another reading for you if you want? About... today."

Val had never truly put much stock into cards or interpretation of any kind, until that first reading of Misty's about Johnny. The cards and their meanings began to come into play a lot more often since then, causing some kind of belief to spring within her over time. The thought of gaining some insight right now, through someone who knew her way about these things—well, it gave her some kind of comfort.

"Yeah, I'd love that."

* * *

They had talked briefly about how V had been feeling, about the lead up to that day, the anniversary of her sacrifice. An entire year's worth of agonizing and attempt at healing, all compacted into a few thoughts that channeled the reading.

Then, Misty began to pull the cards.

_Two of Cup_ _s._

"Hmm," she glanced at the card. "The two of cups tends to signify a sense of harmony, a partnership of some kind. Perhaps this speaks to the bond that you shared with Johnny. The exchange of each cup with one another could mean how you both changed each other, or maybe how you slowly shared your trust."

A second card. _Six of Cups._

"Cups again. This..." Misty let out a small chuckle. "It's about nostalgia, about thinking of times that have passed. It... makes most sense about you, about today. It could be speaking of the time you spent with him. It's not every day that you meet someone inside your head, someone who becomes as much a part of you as you are of him. Even after he left, a part of him is still here, and you think of him a lot."

Val had not realized that she had started crying again.

Final card, _Four of Wan_ _ds._

"Huh... this is interesting," Misty said, tracing a finger over the image.

"What is?" Val mumbled.

"The Four of Wands normally represents celebration and harmony, it shows itself when there is a union involved. Maybe in your case... a reunion. Perhaps this is the cards' way of telling you to think of him, to keep thinking of him, and maybe visit him."

Valerie's heart might as well have stopped right there.

"You haven't been to his niche since you made it," Misty reminded. "Maybe it's time to finally face it."

It would have been a lie to say that Val didn't hope that _union_ might have meant something else, but it couldn't. He was gone. He was already past the blackwall by now and probably merged with Alt's code, too. There was no room in her heart for false hope or promises, but there was room for closure.

Misty was right, as she often was.

"Maybe I should..." Val sighed, a finger reaching out toward the cards but not quite touching them. She took a deep, shaky breath and sniffled, trying to get her emotions in check. "I should... I should probably go home and wash all this off. Maybe when I'm less—" she gestured to herself, "— _this_ , I can go and... see him."

"If you need company, I'm sure I'm not the only one that would be happy to go with you," Misty assured her, reaching for V's hand.

V smiled at her briefly and gave her a nod. "I know, but... might be something I have to do alone. I'll keep that in mind though." Their hands squeezed tightly for a moment as a way of comfort before parting. V cleared her throat and stepped back. "Thanks, Misty. I'll be thinking about this."

"You're welcome anytime, V. I'm here if you need me, honey."

With one wave, Val turned and stepped out of the Esoterica and into the din of Night City, making her way home.

Back in the shop, behind the counter, Misty stacked the three cards together to shuffle them back into her deck, but paused. A gut feeling pulled at her to draw one more card, a final one to top off the reading. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the image: _The Tower_.

* * *

It was cold. That was the first thing that was most noticeable. It was also far too bright and neon— _neon, neon, neon_. The walls and ceiling were stone, everything had a greenish tone to it and the lights were blazing bright.

It was hard to look at, but that was all that he could do. As he drew a breath, he gasped and choked, the rasp in his throat causing him to cough in an uncontrollable fit. Voices called out in faded echoes around him as he tried to sit up in what seemed to be an operating table.

Where the _fuck_ was he?


	2. Four of Wands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me being mega emotional over V and Johnny to finally finish this one but, shit picks up fast y'all OwO

Walking up those steps to the Columbarium was the most difficult thing she had ever done. V had been avoiding it for an entire year, having promised herself she would visit regularly but never doing so. She couldn't.

Perhaps it was time to finally stop ignoring the truth and the hurt. V took a deep breath and stepped into the Columbarium, knowing the path to the niche like the back of her hand. She did not look at it right away, her eyes fixed to the floor, the walls, the sky—anywhere but his name.

Her gaze had brushed over Alt's first, sending a chill down her spine at the thought of the irony behind its placement. There they were, the two names stuck so close to each other after their parting from this world—unbeknownst to everyone that ever knew them just how accurate of a depiction it was.

He was right there, but not quite beside her. One panel higher. He was there with her, but not quite. Another chill ran through her spine, particularly when she glanced at his name so absentmindedly, she hadn't realized what she'd done until it was too late.

_Robert John Linder_

_A son of a bit_ _ch who never gave up. A legend among legends._

V took a deep breath, her vision blurring over as she read the next line.

_The man who sav_ _ed my life._

It was all she could do not to crumble into nothing right then and there, but she did not hold back her tears. Soon, her shoulders began to shake and her chest heaved as a heartbreaking sob broke through. V brought a few fingers up to the niche, tracing the little tray right where his name was displayed. The hologram danced around her fingers as they went through, not quite making contact—also eerily apt.

"You really were a son of a bitch, you know that?" she hissed, sniffling _hard_ and wiping at her face with her sleeve. "You shouldn't have let me leave. I would have stayed with you. Whatever happened, I would have stayed..."

Her free hand moved past her jacket and into the collar of her shirt to pull out a silver chain. She palmed the tags and held them tightly as she wept. It was unclear how much longer she ended up staying there after that.

* * *

Visions began to form in distorted waves, slowly turning into memories as his mind tried to catch up to his consciousness. He began to recognize a few things; the medical equipment, the incessant beeping of a machine that only grew faster and faster each time, and the yelling of doctors and _whoever else_ around the room before he lost consciousness once more.

It wasn't the first time this had happened and it was clear to him now. Clearer than ever as his head hit the table with a hard thud, neon lights sending him off to the abyss for another long stretch.

* * *

Had this place always smelled like shit? Sure, she remembered it smelling terrible, but it wasn't _that_ bad. V stepped over corrugated sheets of metal and whatever passed for a path that lead her where she needed to be. When the old blotch of concrete was visible, she could feel her stomach drop at the sight. All those underlying feelings of turmoil and regret began to bubble up to the surface the closer she got.

By the time she arrived, Val's hands were uncontrollably shaking. She lowered herself down onto a familiar metal slab and took a deep breath. With a quick scrape of fingers through her hair, she leaned forward and hung her head, trying hard not to let her emotions tear into her just yet—what Misty had told her continued to ring in her mind like an endless echo of a broken record.

_Celebration; harmony_ _; union—reunion._

"Reunion..." her lower lip quivered and she grimaced, the venom in her heart finally surfacing. "If only it was a proper reunion... but we can't have that, can we?" Val shook her head and buried her face in her hands. "We never were a fortunate pair, were we?" She took a breath, "From the moment we met, shit just wouldn't let up. Coulda been slotted into some other gonk's brain but you had to be in mine, didn't you?"

Val dropped her hands from her face, then traced one along the carved surface beside her. _JS2023._ "Don't know a soul that earned himself two graves... But _fuck_ you went out with a bang each time." There was that cold, sudden ache in her chest that snaked its way up to her throat. Her eyes stung a little at the sensation. "You know, people thought I'd be happy to hear I was back in my own body, alone in my head again... no one understood why I grieved so much. Everyone's been tryin' all day to take me out for drinks and get my mind off things... Except maybe Misty, and Kerry. He'd never admit it to you, but he did grieve for you. Told me so himself in the days after I came back. Everyone else..."

Sitting up straight a little, V let out a dry, humorless chuckle into the air. "Everyone else still thinks of you as the bastard who ran my well dry and left me for dead. They... think of you as the asshole from 2023, the terrorist of the 'saka bombing, the _rockerboy-gone-rogue_.'" She scoffed, attempting to suppress the bubbling anger. "They never got to see the man you became. Who you were at the end... who you were to me..."

The little memories began to flood her mind; those times that he'd jokingly rest his legs upon hers, the times she'd do the same with him for comfort, the hours they'd spent in the garage or out in the pier. The way the engram and her mind would simulate his fingers running through her hair _—god_ how she hoped she would get to see the day they would do these things in person.

She had hoped for too much.

Mikoshi had been as close to a level field between them as it had ever been. Val sat up straight, her cheeks damp and glistening in the flames of the fields.

"Say something," she called softly, knowing it was pointless but she did anyway. "Anything?" Her voice cracked and her throat constricted. A choking sob racked out of her as she hunched over, her face buried in her hands once more. "I can't do this..." She cried, "how the fuck... Is this a reunion?" She sniffled, wiping her cheeks away with the sleeve of her jacket. "A real reunion would be me fucking launching myself past the Blackwall again, but that-that—"

Oh.

That wasn't doable... It wasn't... It _wasn't._

No. No, right? No.

Her eyes darted side to side as her breathing quickened. Her crying came to a screeching halt and she wiped off the fluids on her face with a sleeve as she stood up. Brows furrowed, heart pounding and eyes still trailing around in thought, V marched for the Porsche.

* * *

His eyes fluttered open once more, his body waking up a little faster this time. His pounding heart is enough to get him to launch himself up to a seated position, but the sting of leather caught him first. His head hit the back of the— _whatever_ he was on, a table or bed of some sort—with a hard thud, causing him to groan.

"Good morning!" A loud and clear voice rung out in the chamber. That's when he noticed. There were no nurses or doctors or anything around. The room was silent otherwise. "My, you've been causing a fuckton of trouble around here, haven't you? Just can't stay down."

"Where the _fuck_ am I?" Shaking and straining against the leather straps, Johnny growled into the air. "Show your fucking face!"

Slow footsteps resounded as the man moved about the room—not closer, but still present. "Not until you calm the fuck down." That seemed to rule him up even further, so the man chuckled. "If you behave I might let you out—"

"What year is it?"

The man paused, the sound of him shuffling in place carrying over to Johnny's ears making him try to push his head up to see the guy. All he could see was a nondescript form of the man from the brief glimpse he caught at an angle too painful to maintain.

"It's the year 2078," the man told him, and Johnny's heart shattered.

His head slammed back against the slab once more as his eyes shut tight. "Fuck..." He shook his head.

"You miss a birthday or something?" The man jested.

No. 

He missed whatever time V had left before she'd die. The time that Alt had promised her. He did not dare to hope that she might still be alive. He could not. He lost her once, he couldn't bear to think of losing her again. She was probably already gone and he hoped she took half the city down with her. She never did do things half-assed or quietly—wasn't her style.

But either way... She was gone.

_Too late._

"What, Johnny? What is it, where'd you go?" The man insisted, taking a step closer.

"Fuck you, fuckin' 'saka piece of shit," he let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "This isn't real, I'm not really here." His voice... It was truly his own, he felt. His left arm had that same vagueness about feeling where his fingertips did not, and he was familiar with the feel and response of this body—felt different than how alien it was in Val's. He stopped himself from thinking further on that.

"You think you're at Arasaka?" The man asked.

"Never left Mikoshi, so only one place I could be," he replied. "Stuck in some sim or something."

"Guess again, genius," the man told him before finally walking forward and into the light. That face, Johnny knew that face— "Bryce Mosely. I believe we've already met."

Johnny hadn't, but V certainly had. The man she spared from the Voodoos back in the day. Johnny's eyes stuck onto the man's features as he leaned a hand against the slab to look down at him. "No, can't say we have."

"Sure we have. You were in her head after all, weren't you?" His lips curved into a crooked smile. "Wasn't sure what I picked up when I had access to her port, but the second we found you, a quick cross reference and here we are."

Fuck.

"So, what—you brought me back, in the flesh?" Johnny asked.

"In _your_ flesh, to be exact," Bryce corrected.

"Bullshit," Johnny spat, looking away as though he couldn't feel that nagging craving of nicotine coursing through him, or the familiar ache of one side of his jaw when he clenched it in anger.

"We _did_ take you from Arasaka. They're still a mess after a lone Merc walked in and singlehandedly unraveled everything they had been building here in Night City, but... Didn't expect to find you in _Mikoshi_ of all places, though..." Bryce explained as a way of asking.

"Assholes liked their trophies, what can I say," Johnny passively replied, his eyes shutting momentarily.

"But you left, right? Had to have left if you wound up in V's head—which I still don't get how that happened... And how you wound back up in Mikoshi," he took a step back. "Did V return you? Did she have enough of your antics or... What, did she use you to get to Arasaka?"

"Give up, corpo- _dick,_ I ain't telling you shit. None of this shit matters," Johnny looked up at the agent.

"Course it does. Because if you talk, you might just get your freedom. Don't you want that?"

His freedom? With whatever leash they must have planted in his body? He had spent enough time with V to learn her caution, to learn when to bite his tongue and bide his time, when to keep fighting and when to shut up. He stopped to think for a moment and knew that this was a loaded scam and a half.

"Find someone else. Only person I'd talk to is dead, I got nothin' left to lose, so go ahead, make me sleep again."

"Can't do that. You see we need you. We're pretty sure Arasaka's—"

"Oh, Arasaka, _Arasaka_ —fuck Arasaka, fuck you, and fuck this, they've already fucked things up enough. You said they're unraveled? Good enough for me." Johnny was beginning to raise his voice as he rattled against the straps, shaking the entire bed with him. "I'm no fucking corpo dog, you won't get shit from me so either let me out—"

"Johnny—"

"Or fucking put me right back where you found me!"

The more that Johnny fought against his restraints, the more it was apparent to Bryce that Johnny was unwilling to answer. From the corner of his eye, Johnny could see Bryce motion toward a large mirror across the room. The doors soon opened and nurses began to filter into the room. Needles and bottles clanking, a nurse hurried over to his IV, pumping what seemed to be the culprit of his daze—and a large dose of it too.

A familiar buzz whooshed through his head as he relaxed into the bed, letting the tingling numbness take over. He might have blamed the bruises and chafing underneath the leather after so much fighting, or maybe the intensity of being back in a body again, but he could not hold back the singular tear that escaped him as he shut his eyes.

He would be no one's puppet.

Before light and sounds fully dimmed around him, he could hear Bryce's voice echoing in the chamber. There were some incoherent orders, but some words did come through. Words he did not know how to process. They played over in his mind again and again until there was nothing but silence.

_Find that Merc._


	3. Eight of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, buttercup! <3

"No. Absolutely not."

Val pushed past the flaps and left the tent after her, taking quick steps to walk around Dakota. "Please, just hear me out."

"No," she barked, folding her arms and frowning. "Last time I helped you, my entire tent nearly burned to a crisp. Do you know how long it took me to rebuild what I lost?"

"You used Arasaka and lost Voodoo tech, stuff that _I_ helped you find," V reminded, trying hard to maintain eye contact with the woman—difficult, considering she kept looking away.

"As payment for destroying my first rig. We're _even_ , I owe you _nothing_ ," Dakota reminded.

Val stepped forward, almost aiming to reach for her but opting to gesture instead—better emphasis that way. "It's just a quick peek. Quick poke through the Blackwall and I'll be out before you know it."

"You say that like it's so simple," she scoffed.

There was little left that Valerie could try—that she could promise in order to convince the woman. Perhaps she should have been removing the risk altogether. Val took a deep breath and looked Dakota in the eyes. "If anything happens, if anything comes through or tries to burn your rig again, I... just jack me out."

Her head whipped forward as Dakota stared V in shock, probably wondering if she'd heard her right. "But you'll be stuck there. You might not come back, you'll die out here."

"I know."

With a furious shake of her head, Dakota hissed. "Do you know what Panam will do if she hears you talking like this? Or anyone, for that matter?"

If Dakota did not agree to it, Val had no other option. This wasn't going entirely as she had planned, even though she did expect a bit of resistance—a bit of pushback. Soliciting Rogue's aid had been a bust, Judy was not presently in Night City—might not ever return—and Panam... Bless her, but she wouldn't be able to help her. Dakota was her only option. "I don't know what else to do," she admitted, feeling her voice quiver in time with her lower lip.

"Why do you need to go there?" she demanded.

"I... Everyone that was in Mikoshi is beyond the Blackwall. All the saved engrams..."

"Silverhand," Dakota added, and V simply nodded. There was a heavy pause between them as Dakota pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath, mumbled something so quietly that V could not comprehend it, and then began speaking. "You get out the moment I tell you—"

Val's eyes widened.

"If you don't... I'm—" Dakota grunted as V wrapped her arms around her tightly, "—leaving your ass in there."

"Fuck, Dakota, I..." Val felt her throat burn with gratitude and relief. "Thank you—"

"Don't thank me," Dakota sighed, like she had told her once before. "Just... get yourself back in one piece or I will kill you myself. Before Panam kills me."

"I'll owe you big for this," V told her.

"Damn right you will."

* * *

The wind was fucking soothing around that time of day. The sun _just_ on the verge of setting, the heat of it subsiding and allowing for the cool evening breeze to come say hello; it was the sweet spot during the day that V could step outside the car and _breathe_. Especially when she was partly drenched in blood, sweat and dirt from a day full of fulfilling gigs.

Preferably, it would be somewhere _far_ away from the fumes of the city.

Whenever she'd be in the middle of a job, the coast seemed to be the easiest place to reach. If not the coast, then the canals would have to do—though they did nothing to give her that fresh air she desired. There were days that V had finished her jobs entirely, having enough time to herself that she could sneak a walk along the piers.

On one such day, she found herself sharing that peaceful moment of hers with the surprise guest in her mind. Sure, Val had expected some commentary from him about how cheesy it was, how she was wasting time and how she needed to track down ways to get into Mikoshi, burn down Arasaka, _bla bla bla_.

But... There was no such talk.

Where Val had sat down, her feet hanging off the pier and toward the water, she watched as the static of the engram slowly faded to show a more coherent image of Johnny—sitting beside her.

"Y'know, I'll probably get why you're doing this in a few hours, when the shit-stained breeze and the salt finally kick into my sensors," he sighed. "But at least the view's not that bad."

It was probably one of the rarer times that had earned a true and genuine smile from V. "Yeah, it's hard to get away from that smell around here, especially with you around all the time."

He flipped her off; she laughed.

Then, she lit a cigarette and took a deep, _long_ drag. "If we're not getting any fresh air, at least we get this," she gestured to the smoke, watching as Johnny lit his own little pixelated cig. When Johnny said nothing, V looked over to him. "You ever have a place like this of your own? Somewhere to go when shit gets a little... too loud?"

He turned from her, looking out to the open water, and V expected that to be that. However, he took off his aviators and pursed his lips, nodding a little. "Yeah. It's actually closer to this side of the city."

"Really?" Val raised a brow. "Well... tell me where it is, we'll pay it a visit."

Johnny looked at her, some look in his eye that she could not quite place. He opened his mouth to speak, then sighed. The aviators went back on, and so did that playful smirk of his. "Maybe some other time."

Right. Coming from anyone else that she knew, that usually meant: _never_.

Surprising her for the third time that day, he leaned in close and whispered, "It's not a place I go to feel better. This spot's much better for that than mine."

Val shot him a look and found nothing that told her he was being disingenuous. Having hardly had any moments like this, she felt herself wanting to cherish it a little; _savor_ it.

"Then... maybe we can come here again before all this is over," V offered before taking a puff.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe."

And _that_ usually meant: _yes_.

* * *

Well, she certainly did not miss the ice, that's for sure. The moment she gripped onto the tub, two things happened. First, she gasped sharply at the sensation of the cold metal and air biting into her warmth. Her legs dipped into the water and her muscles seized momentarily before shaking uncontrollably. Secondly, her mind was sent right back to Mikoshi just over a year ago, to a familiar arm that pushed her beneath the rim and forward to start her life anew. To him.

_I'm coming, you bastard. Please be there. Please._

"You ready? This is going to be rough, you won't have anyone in there with you," Dakota explained.

"It's okay, I-I've done this bef—" she gulped down a shudder, "before."

"That's what worries me," Dakota sighed, glancing back at V once.

Val tried to focus her mind on the coming trip, thinking about what she would say, what she would do. If she found him, was there even a way to bring him back? The chip was still slotted in her head. It was at a standstill, dormant and appeased until further notice—maybe it still had space to carry both of them at once, should she be able to take him with her.

Or would that simply take away from everything they had sacrificed?

Her optics lit up as the rig's interface loaded in. She watched the progress build as she felt her entire body slowly grow numb—both from the cold and the process of being chipped in. Sounds and voices around her began to grow into a blur, images turning distorted and grainy.

The flaps of the tent burst wide open as someone walked in, her attention focused on V. "What the _fuck_ are you doing?!" she yelled—it was Panam. She made a stop by Dakota's deck, then knelt beside the tub. There was little else that V could comprehend, only that Panam was talking to her. Or yelling at her. There was really no way to tell the difference.

She'd understand, though. Hopefully she'd understand.

Val couldn't think about that now, as she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into a deep, dark pit. The world around her faded away into nothingness, being replaced by a facsimile of her strongest memories built entirely out of streams of data. That blue tinge and the splash of red were things she had hoped to never see again in her lifetime, but such was the way of it all.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and allowed herself to give into the process that Dakota ran her through, letting her guide V to the wall. She dug in deep, searching for the memories left behind like forgotten baggage, the images of a life gone by that did not belong to her—but that felt like her own in some strange way. The early 21st century. Alt. Johnny. She focused on those memories, hoping it would help her find the right way as it once did, hoping that Dakota would pick up on it on her end. It would take time, but V had to hope that this would work—and more importantly, that somebody would be there to greet her on the other side.

* * *

The haze of consciousness was something Johnny did not miss. All the anesthetics they had been pumping into his system was certainly not doing him any favors when it came to trying to take in his surroundings. He could feel himself waking just before his next dose was applied, putting him down again. It felt as though he was allowed single gasp of air before being pushed right back down into deep waters.

In some ways, this was worse than Mikoshi.

_Find the Merc. Find the Merc. Find the Merc._

He wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since he was completely awake, but the more he felt himself reach the brink of complete coherence, the more he began to realize the voices around him grew careless.

Bide his time. That's all he needed to do. Use these little moments to figure a way out of this. There was no way he would ever take Bryce's offer, but Johnny had changed his mind. If he truly was back in a body, there was no way in hell he would let them use it to their advantage.

_Find the Merc._

All he needed was a bit more time.

* * *

The wall was a little more menacing than she remembered. Perhaps it was because she was entirely alone in the Net. She had Dakota's protective eyes and ears above, watching from the outside, but within the streams of pixels and data, she was well and truly alone—and her blades could do nothing to protect her here.

Even within the construct, she could feel her insides churning and her guts aching in nervousness. She wondered what she would find, and found herself stopping inches before the wall, unable to keep moving.

But time was a luxury she did not have.

Whether or not she was truly prepared, V had to give it a shot. She had to try anything to silence the aching madness within her chest. Reaching out to touch the red wave was the first step.

It was unclear just when exactly she had switched over, but the intimidating clouds of red and darkness around her signified a horrifying truth. She was now beyond the Blackwall once again. Entirely alone, once again. There was no sign of anything nearby—thank _fuck_ —but there was no other way to get what she needed than to go against her survival instincts right now.

Valerie took a deep breath.

"Johnny!" She cried out, her voice echoing into nothingness.

And that vast emptiness stared right back.

"Johnny!" She cried again, "Talk to me!"

No response.

Her blood—simulation or not—ran completely cold, and a pit grew in her stomach. "J-Johnny?" V called, a little softer this time, maybe a little broken. Her arms wrapped around herself as she looked around, waiting for a small glimmer, a small change in the landscape.

She waited, and waited, and waited.

Nothing came.

Maybe he was actually, well and truly gone. She had to come here, she reminded herself. She _knew_ this would be a possibility. V had allowed herself a small inkling of hope, a kernel of light that she allowed to influence her decisions. It had been over a year and she deserved closure. She _wanted_ to know that she had done the right thing.

More than that, perhaps she had hoped to hear his voice again, even if it wasn't entirely him anymore. And yet... She waited for a minute; two; three, and nothing came.

Only silence.

Then, she swallowed the lump in her throat and knew there was one final thing to be done before she could leave. One last thing she could try. She mustered up the courage within her and hoped that it would be the right thing to do, taking a deep breath and tilting her chin high. "Alt!" She called out into the air.

"You should not be here," the voice boomed, loud and sudden as a large red mass formulated into a familiar form in front of V.

"Alt?" V glanced up.

"V," she replied. "You've managed to survive the effects of the biochip so far."

"I have," _no thanks to you_ , she almost added, but that wasn't fair. Alt did give her a head start—even _if_ it was mainly due to Johnny's presence. It was as she had once said to V, they would not be talking if it wasn't for him. "I'm here for Johnny."

"You came all this way, on your own with no way out, you risked your life and the stability of the biochip, just to come here," Alt stated, her form shifting a bit closer and seemingly larger. "You also risked being followed, or tracked, or even hunted; risked bringing the ever-present dangers of the outside world within—to me. I had told you once that there were many dangers lurking beyond the Blackwall, but you do not listen."

"Alt..." V muttered, a sense of dread building within her.

"You risk yourself anyway. You and Johnny made a sacrifice, and yet you cast it aside so easily. You are too late."

_Too late..._

"Alt, where the _fuck_ is he?" V asked adamantly.

"He is not here," Alt revealed in monotone.

"What."

"Johnny is not here," she repeated more clearly.

"He's... He's gone? He's merged with you, then?" V asked, feeling her heart pounding _hard_ within her chest.

"No. You do not understand. Johnny did not cross the Blackwall with me, as he should have. He remained in Mikoshi long after you left, despite my best efforts to convince him to leave."

"This can't..." V took a breath, and another, trying hard to maintain her composure as the panic set in.

"Johnny is not _here_."

No, no, _no._

"He was _never_ here."


	4. Three of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are finally coming together y'all OwO

_Johnny is not here._

_He was never here._

So for the entire year that she had been focusing on getting her own shit back in order, Johnny was—

"I thought you didn't need permission, Alt! You said there would be no point in talking to the souls before you took them all away, how could you leave him—"

"I did _not_ leave him." The urgency and strictness of her voice shot a spike of ice into Val's chest. "He remained in Mikoshi too long."

"What does that even mean? Why did he stay there?" Val asked, stepping closer to Alt—if that even helped, she didn't know.

"You should see for yourself," Alt replied, then waved her hands in a wide arc around her.

Suddenly, the pixels and blocks that formulated the cyberspace around them both began to shift and change. The blue tinge came back as she realized a familiar setting had been made. The table and booth at Tom's diner.

"Wait..."

Then, beside it, Johnny's car appeared. The doors were opened and the back of it had sunk low to the ground. There were the sounds of voices talking and laughing; no words to be heard but the voices echoed eerily like a memory. It was when they leaned against the back of his car and talked, one of their many sweet moments shared by flipping off the corpos of the world.

More of these spots began to appear nearby; the couch and bed of her apartment, the rollercoaster cart with only a fraction of the rails showing, the Pistis Sophia, the place where they bonded at the oil fields, Kerry's couch and the Seamurai, and finally...

The piers.

As Valerie approached them, she could see that on one of the docks, a faint silhouette of Johnny appeared. She kicked into a sprint to get to him, only for Alt to call out to her.

"He is not truly there." Val's approach slowed to a brisk walk and Alt continued. "These are the places he wished to see one last time before coming with me. A few minutes, he said. He stayed long enough for _days_ to pass in the real world. Then, he was gone."

"What..." Val turned to face her. "What the _fuck_ does that mean?"

"An outside force of Netrunners accessed Arasaka's systems. Either they were hired, or they were a separate faction. They were peering inside Mikoshi. They found me, and they found Johnny. It was easier to take him—he did not know how to defend himself within cyberspace. They tried to take me, so I left."

"You left?" V spat, "How could you fucking leave him like that?"

"I could not risk them seizing control of me or gaining access to beyond the Blackwall. Mikoshi needed to be shut down. It provided an ample distraction for me to leave. They could not find me this way," she explained.

"You didn't even fight? You could have helped him, you could have _saved_ him," V argued.

"He would have been used as bait, and there was nothing to save. I would not blindly rush into a situation I know nothing about without first considering all its aspects. That, V, is where the _human factor_ comes in." Alt did not need to say it, but V understood her meaning clearly. She was also talking about V's visit to the Blackwall.

"He trusted you. We both did," V spat.

"I was ready to take him. He was not ready to leave. I told him of the risks. He did not listen. Much like you," she reminded.

"So if-if he's not here," Val took a staggered breath. "Where is he?"

"I do not know," Alt replied.

"How could you not know?" Val gestured her arms wildly. "You are one of the most powerful entities in cyberspace, how could you _not_ know?"

"They did not march into Mikoshi announcing their presence. They snuck in, shrouded by ICE. They were careful and prepared. I could not place their location or identity before I left."

This could not be happening. Valerie took a few steps back and she shook her head before running both hands through her hair. Not only was Johnny nowhere to be seen, but he was _missing_. Was there even anything of him left? Had he been chipped into some other gonk's head? Did that gonk die? Did _he_ die? Was he well and truly gone? Or was he still stored away somewhere in another briefcase, left dormant and alone?

V was just starting to lose herself in those thoughts when Alt's form shifted once more, moving closer and hovering.

"You must leave, now," she demanded.

"Wh—" V looked up, "Alt you have to help me, this is... It's Johnny. It's _Johnny_."

"I cannot help you. You have been careless in your methods of reaching beyond the Blackwall that you did not think about your way back. You left the pathway open for anything to pass through, making it easy for anyone to reach this place—to reach _me._ But while I was able to shut it momentarily, shortly after your arrival, it will not hold if I do not shut it down properly. Leaving it open is dangerous and staying here will kill you. You must leave."

As she stepped backward toward the wall, Val looked around at the various locations that had been made around her, as though she was trying to commit what Johnny had done to memory. She looked for his silhouette once again but it was nowhere to be found. "Can't I stay just a bit longer?"

"You are still tethered to your body through the connection of the external rig. You must leave now before the wall is sealed for good. You are asking too much of your human body by staying here longer than you should. If you do not leave now, it will soon cease to be your choice."

V cast one last glance at her surroundings, beginning to pant as she approached the wall. She looked up at the AI once last time and gave her a small dip of her chin. "Goodbye, Alt."

"Goodbye, V."

She reached out her hand and placed it flat upon the beaming red surface of the Blackwall, feeling her surroundings fall apart. She had barely any time to register the change before she felt her existence yanked—tugged _hard_ in such a way that all simulations of air escaped her lungs.

Her vision fell away pixel by pixel until it was all to bright, bright, _bright._

Cold. Fuck. It was still too cold. She forgot about the damn ice and the water and— _fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Launching herself into a seated position, V gasped for air and felt her body shiver and shake. She soon felt Dakota's hands upon her as the cable was disconnected from her port. A second pair of hands joined in as both Panam and Dakota helped V out of the tub. They were both speaking rather loudly, saying things, but she could not hear them clearly just yet. Her mind was still catching up with her, not only trying to piece together what she had heard, but attempting to snap back to reality.

Then, the tears came.

* * *

"What the _hell_ were you thinking? You didn't even tell me your plan, you didn't even _ask_ me what I thought, you just went right on in there and went ahead, which—" Panam pointed at Dakota, "—we're gonna have a _long_ discussion about, by the way!" She then brought her hands down on her thighs as she bent down a little to meet V's eyes. "What the _fuck_ , Val?"

V had been sitting on the same cot that she'd usually commandeer whenever she got back to camp. She had a thick synth wool blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm and she made a point to avoid eye contact with anyone for the start of the whole conversation.

It wasn't even a conversation, it was a scolding.

"What if you died?" Panam argued, "What if suddenly I got the news that hey, that fucking _gonk_ of yours walked into an ice bath and melted anyway! All under your nose! What then?"

She did have a point.

"I know, Panam, I..." V sighed heavily. "I know. And I'm sorry. It was... It had to be done."

"Why? What the _fuck_ did you need to do that you couldn't talk to me about? You _know_ I'm ready to help you, you just had to ask," she said as she knelt before her, shifting a bit closer.

"You wouldn't have agreed to this."

"Why?" she prodded.

"Because I had to see him."

There it was. The look of realization. Val had mentioned the man that was the very reason they had to charge into Arasaka in the first place. She had insisted before that it would have been just as much her fault as it was Johnny's, but Panam was fine with just blaming _him_. Particularly for the number of people they lost that day.

"And? Was it worth it?" Panam asked. "Did you find him?"

V watched the frayed ends of the blanket as she fiddled with them, picking apart loose threads. "No, I didn't."

"What?" Dakota blinked, stepping forward. "I thought you said he was beyond the Blackwall. We used your—" she paused, "— _those_ memories."

"Apparently he never left Mikoshi and someone pulled him out," Val replied, her voice slowly beginning to crack a little as she faced that truth. "He's gone."

"But... we can find him, right?" Panam frowned.

"No, we can't," V finally looked up, and Panam's expression fell.

V had been entirely monotone the moment she began speaking after the tub. Both her mind and her body were still in shock by the events and the revelation. An entire _year_ had passed since they parted ways, he could be _anywhere_ by now.

"Fuck that, there's gotta be a way," Panam countered.

"Nothing short of walking right into Arasaka again to figure out what happened a year ago. Something I'll have to do alone, and it would be suicide."

"Okay, if you mention doing _anything_ 'alone' one more time, I'm going to kick your ass," Panam warned.

"I'm never taking you back there, Panam. None of you, not after everything that happened," _after all the lives that were taken._ There was an uncomfortable silence between them as understanding fell into place.

Before anyone could keep talking, Panam stood up and then promptly wrapped her arms around V. She then pulled away but kept a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure this out, we'll figure _something_ out that works... If he's out there, then he needs you."

"Didn't think you'd want to go looking for him," V admitted, looking up.

"That's because you need him too."

 _Well_ _then._

"Get some rest, V. I'll yell at you some more when you can yell back," Panam told her, a faint smile showing that it was merely a joke.

It was one that V certainly appreciated. She nodded and mumbled a _thank you_ to both of them before they left. Slowly lowering herself onto the cot, she tried to clear her mind and get some of that rest she truly needed. Instead of wondering how she could possibly find him and hoping for the chance that he might still be out there somewhere, that he could be saved, Val shut her eyes and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

A few mumbles and wisps of words escaped past his lips, but beyond that, the man remained still. It was impressive that he continued to fight hard for consciousness when science itself was working against every muscle in his body. Bryce was uncertain how long they could keep this up, but it was necessary in order to keep the man sane. After all, one doesn't normally come back from the dead after around fifty years.

Still, it had been two weeks since their last conversation. He was not going to be happy about that, about being put down for such long periods at a time. After his general volatility, it was hard to predict how _much_ time would have been enough.

They only had one shot at this.

The doors opened behind him and a set of heavy steps approached. Then, a clearing of a throat caught his attention, finally. "Had a ping in the net today regarding that _friend_ we've been looking for. You'll never guess where."

Bryce blinked and finally looked away from Silverhand's body, turning to Tommy. He was holding out a datapad for him, one that he took without delay and began to read. The corners of his lips quirked up as he realized what that Merc had been up to. He shook his head and pressed the top of the datapad to his lips, glancing back down at Johnny.

The man was on the brink of his daze, nearing the time for his next dose. He continued to let out a few mumbles and sighs here and there, as though he was awake but not quite present.

"Go," Bryce ordered, handing the datapad back to Tommy. "Do what you can."

"How much do you want me to say?" he asked.

"As much as you need to, but nothing about him," Bryce reminded. As Tommy nodded and left the room, he turned back toward Johnny and leaned in just in time for his injection. "Your old pal's been causing some trouble again, Silverhand..." he chuckled. He could have sworn Johnny's eyes moved to him when he spoke those words, but it was hard to tell past the fluttering eyelids. Finally, Johnny drifted back into deep sleep and Bryce sighed, pushing away from the bed.

"Get ready to bring him back soon," he ordered the nearest doctor. "We're going to need him ready to talk."

* * *

_Find the Merc._

_That_ friend _we've been looking for._

_Your old pal._

What were they up to? What were they on about? Johnny had just been able to start hearing things a bit more clearly when he felt the Propofol coursing through his system, when he felt himself sink once more.

 _Find the Merc_.

No. It couldn't be.


End file.
